Hehe, lame, I know. But I found it amusing. The whole excerpt was action-packed, if somewhat shorter than the others (I noticed some of the characters weren't addressed, not that I'm complaining). Not much else to say here -- I didn't notice any errors or anything, and it was good overall.

Hehe, lame, I know. But I found it amusing. The whole excerpt was action-packed, if somewhat shorter than the others (I noticed some of the characters weren't addressed, not that I'm complaining). Not much else to say here -- I didn't notice any errors or anything, and it was good overall.

Thanks Jason. I'm pretty sure Huebris knew enough about Tony to know he'd end up fine. As for the other characters, I don't use every character in every section. Most of you guys are done fic wise. The next section is the last and I'll tie up the remaining loose ends.

Thanks Jason. I'm pretty sure Huebris knew enough about Tony to know he'd end up fine. As for the other characters, I don't use every character in every section. Most of you guys are done fic wise. The next section is the last and I'll tie up the remaining loose ends.

Gotcha. Yeah, I was just giving you grief on the Huebris thing. I am going to be sad to see this fic end, though. It's been enjoyable so far.

Deo's really been working overtime with his writing . Anyway, I sometimes forget that I wrote Star(She's such a middle child), but you did a good job with her as well. I'm sure Helenas' Mental Defense will make a good challenge for Star.

Star slides down the ladder. There is a wading pool of filth gathered at the bottom. Amongst the waters she can find nothing of the woman she shoved off the platform above. It was at least a forty-foot drop; there should be a motionless lump of flesh around here somewhere.

Star sloshes through the pool, the sound of falling water murmurs around her. She holds Helenas’s rifle between her hands. Her eyes circle the bottom of the shaft, but there is nothing in front of her. Behind her there is only the rushing waste waterfall…wait!

Star spins to face her but Helenas moves at the exact same instant; she jumps out from her hiding place inside the falling torrent of sewer water and lunges for Star. Star aims the rifle at her and fires. A massive silver spike shoots from the barrel and spins off like an errant pinball into the wall. Helenas grabs for the barrel end of her gun.

“Fear not,” she quotes, “for in the hands of the unholy the swords of righteousness shall not burn, nor cut, nor spill a drop of blood. Only those of pure minds can aim by the will of God, and all else shall burn by the hell of their own making!”

Star glares back with hate.

“Oh shut up!”

Star moves her hands to grasp Helenas by the side of the head. She rushes her mind with pain and confusion. Helenas staggers back away; Star reaches again.

Helenas beaks from her daze, and grasps her by the arm. Star attempts to attack again, but she can’t reach her, Helenas’s gloves isolating her from the actual body.

“And lo, the unholy shall test your will. They shall test your will of body by, oh I don’t know, throwing you into a sewer. And they shall test the will of mind as well, yet you shall not fall to their tricks as long as the Lord is on your side. AMEN BITCH!”

She slams her head forward in a nose cracking heabutt. It does damage enough to both of them, but Helenas shrugs it off. She grabs her rifle from the stunned woman’s arms and tugs it free. Star responds back quickly and grabs her by the neck, this time getting a hard grip.

Helenas is not pained by this next attack, that was never the point. It was a suggestive mind control tactic to buy time.

‘Don’t follow me, don’t fight me…’

She attempts to manipulate Helenas with all her power, but inertia and resistance fight her every step of the way. She eventually lets go and jumps away quickly.

Helenas shakes herself as Star runs towards the far end of the pool where everything flows away. She raises her rifle, ready to fire.

She can’t force herself to do it. She wants to fire, but some lingering effect remains. Star has almost reached the edge of the pool, and Helenas is still building up the force of will to fire. The sewage exits out through a pipe now less than three feet across, it flows rapidly at this end, like a water slide.

Helenas watches as Star makes for the pipe, she tries to fire; Star jumps into the pipe and disappears.

“Damn it!”

Helenas crosses her self as she bolts for the pipe herself. She takes a deep breath, grabs the top of the pipe, and throws herself in feet first. The sewage rushes by her as she speeds down the rough tube in a half freefall. Darkness surrounds for a few seconds, then the pipe opens up with a splash.

Helenas hits the ground covered in filth. The pipe had emptied out into another room. The ‘water’ continues flowing through the grate she is now sitting on. She looks around her. Her prey is nowhere to be seen. She stands up and begins to brush some of the sewage off of her. There is a ladder to her left leading to a catwalk; she climbs it.

The catwalk leads in two directions. According to a placard hung on the railing, one direction lead towards the reservoir system, the other towards the exit. Helenas notices grimy footprints on the catwalk leading towards the exit. She bites her lip in anger, but anger is a sin. Vengeance on this woman may be what she desires, but her mission was to protect the water supply. She swallows her anger and stomps off towards the reservoir.

The Underground, Continuous…

John descends from the sewer level and reaches the fork in the path. He takes the right path towards the reservoir and begins running. The floating beam of his flashlight bobs through with rapid speed. John follows the path he took before and finds the heavy iron gate to the reservoir.

He shoves it, creaking it open inch by inch. He probes the reservoir, it is just as seemingly safe as before. Only by shining his light directly at the water can he force the parasites to gather, the larger ones up to a few inches long. He raises the light and shines it across the rail-guarded pathway around the reservoir.

The girls are nowhere to be seen, but there is no time to worry about that now. John begins racing around the platform ringing the reservoir, searching for the emergency shut off valve. He jogs for over a minute till he sees a path branching off from the main containment. He follows the path and finds a room marked ‘Observation and Control’; the door has been kicked in.

John pulls his pistol, slides the door open slowly, and clears the room visually. It is filled with high tech equipment and Frankenstein-grade valves and levers. Pipes climb the walls, and the vaulted ceiling shines down bright yellow light, making this possibly the most well lit section of space in the entire underground. He could even see that the final wall of the room facing the reservoir was glass, allowing easy viewing of the body of water behind. Towards the bottom of the water the larger parasites squirm in full view. John shudders.

Towards the transparent wall lies a raised platform; on it sits a mammoth valve attached to sprawling system of pipes. It is painted in a weak and cracking red, with the word ‘emergency’ written on a placard above it.

“Well I suppose I don’t have to guess what that is.”

A loud clang comes behind him.

He swivels to pull off a quick shot; it hits the target in the shoulder before she kicks him in the jaw. John flies backwards, his back slamming into the raised steel platform.

He quickly pulls his gun to fire again. He points for the attacker’s torso but doesn’t squeeze the trigger.

“Sonja?”

“Hello John.”

She sends a lightning jab into his neck; John’s willingness to shoot his old ally is not as quick.

He is stunned, she plants a boot into his chest and he hits the steel platform again. He falls to his knees, his gun hand lowered to the ground. Bloodhound stomps down viciously on his palm and the gun is forced from his hand. She kicks it across the floor and chuckles to herself.

She struts away from John, leaving him to regain his composure on his own. She casually kneels down and picks up the revolver. She plays with it a second or two, then aims directly over John’s head. He ducks, and the shot goes off, punching into a pipe behind him. It begins to spurt a thin mist over them. John looks back to her, she begins circling around him in the narrow room, observing his gun.

“John Reynolds plays with big guns, and he knows how to use them. That’s what I always heard.”

“You toss it back to me,” John says, “and I can give you a bigger one when this is all over with. Sound like a deal?”

“Was that innuendo John?”

“It is if you want it to be.”

She laughs lightly. He slowly begins to creep towards her. She whips the gun out, barrel facing the center of his chest.

“That’s quite an offer Johnny boy, whatever it is. But I’ll have to pass; I don’t want anything you have. You see, I’m better off now then I’ve ever been.”

“I find that hard to believe Sonja. Last time I saw you, you were comatose in the intensive care ward of St. Crispins.”

“What doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger...”

“Sonja, I don’t know what they did to you but—”

“What they did to me is make something better.”

She begins to step up the stairs of the raised platform, staring at the water beyond the glass behind it.

“They broke me down and made something new. Sonja was a rich spoiled brat, who thought she could make a difference by being a cop and starting a few fundraisers. When that didn’t work, she decided to dress up in body armor and go into the night and play vigilante. You know what happened then?”

She slams her fist against the glass hard, then expands it gently, to feel the deep cold of the water on the other side.

“She got her ass handed to her… She constantly lost, all the time. She was bloody, broken, defeated. And for what? It never ended, she never made a difference. Every time she broke down inside just a little more… Until they found her. They found her, and they tortured her… endlessly… until she died. But you couldn’t let her die, you couldn’t save her, but you wouldn’t let her die. And when life came back, Sonja was dead. Bloodhound was born.”

She looks down at the centipede like parasites moving through the water, the smallest not visible to the naked eye, the largest thumping against the glass to get near her. They crawl to where her hand lies from the other side of the glass, sensing her. She looked at them with happiness in her eyes.

“Sonja will not be the only one to die. They sent me here to protect the rest of us waiting to be born. To hunt down the one who might purify the water, who could cure those who we gave new birth. I followed her here… and then I lost her scent… everything smelled like sh*t!”

Sonja angrily punches the glass.

“So Helenas likes to romp around in sewage,” John adds, “so what? Girls will be girls.”

Bloodhound laughs again. She looks back to John. He calmly looks back to her, still trying to reason.

“Sonja, if you are in there anywhere… This isn’t really you. They’re playing with your brain chemistry, that’s all. It’s a hallucination, and we can cure you.”

“Sorry Johnny Boy. You’re too late.” She begins to descend back down to the floor near him,

“I’m never leaving. You aught to join me though… You have no idea what it’s like. This is invigorating, you become a better you. I can only imagine your potential once we get inside you.”

“Well that is quite an offer sweetheart, whatever it is, but I’ll have to pass. You’re not on solid ground you see; you’re forgetting the Angel’s of Mercy number three rule.”

“Never trust a beautiful women offering you happiness, power, and everything you desire?”

“That’s number four. Number three is… always carry a secondary weapon.”

His hand moves in a blur for the glock pistol tucked in his waistband. Bloodhound bounds from her position to tackle him. He lands two shots into her chest plate before she’s upon him.

Her torn armor absorbs the rounds. She places a quick knee to his chest and he stumbles back. She draws his old magnum to bear on him; John ducks just quickly enough, and the shot blasts a chunk from the wall behind him. He rolls behind a panel of machinery. Her next shot blasts into it on the side opposite of where his head is.

He crouches low and fires around the corner. The blast hits her in the kneepad armoring. She runs towards him unconcerned of his attempts. She passes around the panel and fires a round less then two inches from his shoulder. He ducks and moves towards her. She points the gun point blank to his heart.

John’s hand pushes the gun sideways in the same time it takes her to pull the trigger; the bullet smashes into the machinery, causing a loud clang but harming no one. She pushes him back with a quick palm and knocks his hands to his side. She raises the gun again and pulls the trigger quickly.

It clicks harmlessly, all six rounds already spent.

“What’s wrong Sonja, firing on empty? Don’t worry it happens to most guys, not me, but—”

She rushes him. He moves to shoot quickly and the glock lets a shot smack into her head plate. Even then, the armor stands strong against the standard handgun. She grabs his fingers and twists them. This is the second time she’s attacked his hand, and the pain easily lets the gun drop.

She plants a few kicks to his sternum, then sends an uppercut to his chin. He falls backwards and stumbles against the wall for support. Blood trickles from his lip. Bloodhound laughs.

“That was it? That was your big surprise attack? You shoot me with a gun that can’t even pierce my armor, then I kick your ass? Very impressive.”

“Honestly… that went a lot differently in my head.”

“What did you expect? Something would magically change in me and I wouldn’t want to kill you?”

“Actually--”

The door explodes off its hinges with a thunderous boom. Bloodhound and John turn towards it; a new player enters the room, a freakish looking gun in her hands. John finishes his line.

“--I was kind of hoping somebody might save my ass.”

“No,” Bloodhound mutters, “I killed you…”

Jasmine smirks back .

“Yes, luckily it didn't prove fatal, then I got better… your turn.”

Bloodhound leaps across the room, Jasmine fires at the ready. The mini-grenades pelt the surroundings and tear the room to smithereens. Bloodhound is thrown back by the first volley of fire.

Jasmine does not let up, Bloodhound quickly moves from cover to cover, unable to hide for long as the explosions rip every thing in the room to debris.

John picks up both his guns then runs for the door next to Jasmine as she paints the room with exploding shells.

Bloodhound dodges as best she can. A few rounds bounce off the floor and explode against the glass. It slowly cracks up the sides. John watches as the cracks spread, the wall begins to creak.

“Run,” he says calmly, “now, now is the time to run…”

He runs past Jasmine; she continues firing around where Bloodhound last stood. The wall creaks louder and louder till,

The thick glass shatters, the deluge breaks as a crushing wave. Jasmine raises her gun and runs out the door before the water could sweep her from her feet. The water floods the room, quickly filling towards the high ceiling; the machinery sparks and short circuits, the emergency valve is buried underneath.

John and Jasmine emerge on the pathway ringing the reservoir. Jasmine checks her gun.

“Anything left?” John asks

“I only had one more extra clip with me, those rounds are hard to fabricate.”

“Do you think you took her out?”

A splash ruptures in front of them. Bloodhound leaps out of the water onto the path in front of them .

“I’d probably say not.” Jasmine says.

John watches the two women stare off. He looks down towards the glass window where the valve room sat. It wasn’t far, he might be able to make it.

“Can you handle her?”

“Yes,” Jasmine replies, “just stay out of the way.”

“Gladly.”

John turns and jumps from off the rail , diving headfirst into the parasite infected water.

Jasmine rushes Bloodhound. The light is better, and Bloodhound can’t hide on the narrow, open, pathway. She has to fight. She charges forward. They clash in midair, landing punches simultaneously on the other’s cheek.

Under the water, John swims slowly towards the hole blasted in the wall. He was never a great swimmer, and his choice of wearing the heavy leather duster may not have been the best. He held his mouth tight, trying his best to keep the water from entering in.

He fumbles his way through the jagged hole in the glass wall, entering the submerged control room. Bubbles of air escape from his mouth in a slow steady stream. He paddles into the room and makes his way to the emergency valve. He grips onto the valve, presses his feet against the wall and attempts to turn it hard. The valve barely nudges, John feels his remaining air dwindling.

Above the reservoir, Jasmine sweeps Bloodhound’s legs. She hits the ground like a rock, Jasmine follows with a throat punch. Bloodhound blocks and the two roll on the floor. Bloodhound gets to her feet and throws a downward elbow towards Jasmine face, catching her across the cheekbone.

Jasmine kicks her in the chest and pushes her back. Bloodhound darts back, Jasmine stands to the ground.

Jasmine waits for an opening, both fighters in a standoff. Bloodhound steps to her side, dropping her guard for a brief second. Jasmine rushes her, kicking her head with roundhouse. Bloodhound hits the stumbles, but grabs the leg and tosses her opponent into the wall.

John was about to lose it. He gives the valve one last yank, it creaks slowly until closed and the pipes groan. The reservoir begins to shut off.

John desperately kicks out and rapidly rushes for his exit. His lungs were empty, but he couldn’t swallow a single drop of the tainted water. The tiny parasites float in his view. He passes through the rupture in the glass and moves towards the surface. Almost there,

He bursts through the top of the water. He gasps for air. He sees Bloodhound wailing on Jasmine. Jasmine gets in a quick sucker punch and tosses her assailant off.

John crudely dog paddles towards them; he grips the rail and throws himself over next to Jasmine.

“How’s it going?”

“Not great,” she says, “Without Joey I don’t have the fire power to brake through that armor. Do you have any guns?”

“Two.” John says. He feels his dampened pockets.

“Which I just entirely submerged in water… crap.”

“Don’t worry.” Bloodhound tells them.

She stalks forward arms raised in a fighting stance.

“I’ll kill you first John. Then I’ll toss your little friend into the reservoir so she can be just like me. Together we’ll kill all the Angels. None of them can save you now, you’ll—”

There is a distant blast and her ribcage is impaled through her armor from behind.

Bloodhound is stunned for a second. She looks down without a word and brings her hand to the object piercing her heart. She feels the sharp tip of the silver stake pointing out of her breast.

Bloodhound says nothing more. She falls to the ground weakly, both hands still clutching at the spike lodged in her chest. Helenas slowly approaches from behind, her rifle now lowered. Bloodhound breathes lightly, leans against the rail for support, then simply stops moving. It almost looks as if she’s resting. After a moment of waiting, John knows its over.

He walks to her and closes her eyes. He speaks slowly.

“Helenas,” he says, “did you purify the water?”

“Yes,” she answers, “I’m not sure what good it would do. I saw the bugs, the same as the one the demon placed in Jill’s stomach. The purification rite is meant to heal people who drink the water, not kill things living in it…”

She looks at the motionless body lying against the rail.

“I should not have shot her in the back. It was not a chivalrous thing to do.”

She begins to slowly walk away, back towards the iron door. John stares at Sonja’s body for a few seconds later. Helenas joins him.

“She was your friend?”

“Used to be,” he said, “She was one of us. I thought I saved her in time, but I only prolonged her suffering.”

“…As the holy book says, rejoice in death, for in a life well lived we are rewarded with the blessings of heaven and eternal—”

“Helenas, not now.”

……………………………………………………..

After the particularly colorful rhetoric of a national news reporter, the events that occurred at Khazan City that day became labeled as the “Horsemen of May”.

A total of 171 people came down with a mysterious ailment, the plague, which included symptoms of fever, vomiting blood, dizziness, and eventually, death. These symptoms began first popping up at three drug labs in Lowtown. Next the symptoms appeared en-masse at a film screening at the Monument Theater in Uptown. The next day a few dozen more cases began to poke up around the city, beginning what may have appeared to be a spreading epidemic. But, the cases immediately stopped appearing at at 1:25 pm, and no other instance of the disease was recorded. Coincidentally, the main water treatment plant in the industrial quarter was shut down at 1:24 pm. To everyone, save ten people in the city, this remained a coincidence. No explanation has ever been given by city officials as to what caused the disease in the first place.

22 people died in fires across the swath of Lowtown, the inferno, which burned long into the night. Hundreds more lost their homes and possessions. The fires were hastened by the ongoing riots which made it impossible for the fire department to reach 80% percent of the endangered buildings. Complicating the matter further was the water issue, the two main sites of which were periodically, and unexplainably, shut off during the climax of the inferno. Luckily, neither of the systems were shut down simultaneously, allowing the water to run freely.

The riots themselves, the strife, killed far more people. During the Lowtown riot there were approximately 75 murders, 115 assaults, 6 rapes, and endless numbers of public mayhem, arson, and looting. The majority of these crimes have gone unsolved, but rumors of hope abound even in such dark times. One story tells of a masked duo in Lowtown who saved lives and somehow freed people from the riot’s grip.

Between the plague, the inferno, and the strife, the Horsemen of May claimed the lives of 268 people in one day. The lasting effects drudged on for months and years. Those Lowtowners left homeless by the fire were moved into government housing, but the recovery was slow, and many of them ended up on the street. The more cynical uptowner would blame these vagabonds for the rapid increase of crime the city saw afterwards. However it also became clear that a large portion of people snapped on that day, and never went back. The percentage of clinical sociopaths and psychopaths among Khazan’s criminals skyrocketed, many claiming that the riot “opened their eyes, and showed them the truth. It gave them new life.” The state mental hospitals were pushed to the brink. In the autopsies of many of these newly risen sociopaths, shriveled parasites much like worms or centipedes were found inside their intestinal track. The assumption was made that this was an unrelated dietary issue, likely caused after they began living on the streets.

Among the many major issues that happened that day, many unnoticed minor ones occurred as well.

A dilapidated fishery collapsed under its own weight in The Big Sink, a fact which seemed to worry no one save the people inside it at the time. No charges were filed. A half hour later a man sopping wet and in dark sunglasses walked out of the Sink. Fifteen minutes following that, two private detectives emerged after him. They followed his scent for as long as they could. The trail went cold after hour 49.

The water treatment plant in the industrial quarter was not in operation for a large part of the day. The door had been kicked in, and the fence had been cut open. Engineers examined the machines and found them to be working fine, and assumed that vandals had shut down the system, but then returned and turned it back on when the guilt got to them. No charges were filed.

In Lowtown a police barricade was smashed by four individuals driving a 69 Ford Mustang. Because these individuals were actually driving towards the riot zone, no pursuit was made, and no charges were filed.

In the Lowtown underground the underground reservoir’s “Observation and Control Room” flooded. It was believed to be nothing more than a mundane breakdown of a weakened glass wall. The consequent flooding is believed to have activated the reservoir’s emergency shut off. The room was drained and is currently being repaired. No charges were filed.

Upon inspection of the reservoir, maintenance crews found a population of dead insects floating around the edges. The largest of these creatures could grow to the thickness of a quarter. City health and safety officials scoured the reservoir to assure that the problem was dealt with and to guarantee that the whole city had clean drinking water. No cause was made certain but it was assumed that the insects had managed to migrate from the nearby sewers. Their species was unconfirmed. No human involvement was suspected. No charges were filed.

Among all those shipped to the overburdened St. Crispins, two individuals disappeared from the ambulance they were placed in. Both were involved in crashes of some kind. The first crashed his motorcycle in the middle of the street, the other was hit by a car in the center of hickory park. Despite major injuries, they were left in the ambulance alone for less then five minutes. Two men and a woman appeared from the mob, one a bearded young man purporting to be a doctor, the other a shorter Japanese man who said nothing at all along with his creepy nurse. They entered the ambulance; in half a minute the injured men walked out with them and were never seen again.

It is of note that the Actress/Activist/and Vigilante Sonja Sullivan died during this time as well. She was apparently involved at the Monument theater incident in some capacity, as she was bused to St. Crispins the night when all attending her movie premiere caught the epidemic that soon swept the city. She escaped under unknown circumstances, ‘accidently’ killing two of her doctors in the process. Her body was found miles away and about a quarter mile below the surface of the city. The maintenance crew sent to fix the reservoir control room found her body contorted and leaning on the reservoir pathway. She was wearing torn body armor that had been shot multiple times, once successfully through the shoulder, and once more with a six inch silver spike piercing her heart.

The body was sent back to Los Angeles. It was never revealed to the public as to what Sonja did in her free time, but many Angel’s of Mercy attended the funeral, among them an old friend from Manhattan, New York. The Port of Kings P.D. did not have the time or energy to solve one celebrity’s death among the hundreds of other cases to deal with during the event. As you can imagine, no charges were filed.

The events known as the Horsemen of May became a blemish on Khazan’s history. The administration of the city, and of the country as a whole attempted to respond but the effect was uncontrollable. The one man in the country, nay in the world, who profited from these horrors had total deniability. Senator Alexander North was at a fundraiser in California at the time, and seemed to have no knowledge of the events. Yet eerily, many sound bites of his platform to run for President of Khazan popped up in the weeks following. When running, he said that unless the current administration step up law enforcement that “Lowtown may very well burn under the weight of its own lawlessness!”. In a promise to rebuild the city infrastructure he was quoted as saying that “The Port of Kings Underground is an unhygienic, cess-pit that must be thoroughly demolished. If this does not occur, it could become the breeding ground for an epidemic, or something worse.”

North was considered a prophet. In no long time he would soon be considered the man to beat in any following election, regardless of whether he actually ran.

However despite this hypocritical claim, North, or Percy as he is often called, was not left unchallenged.

Sayang still breathed. It succeeded only half-heartedly, but it would be back. Yet with every move they make, it seems as if they are being watched. At every political rally the grand puppet-master held, there may be a man in a faceless mask looking out from the crowd watching his every move. At every bloody murder scene Koji left, he knew that a trio of gun-toting vigilantes may be creeping towards him, lining up a shot. At every squalid haven Scourge found peace at, he knew the Vanguard Marine could find him at any moment. Through every mind the Whisper Man poisoned he may soon find the tormented soul he crossed that day, and know that he may not win a second time around. Through every dive bar Nomad stopped at, there sat in the stool next to him the possibility that for once a bomb would come for him, special delivery of The Mortician. On any street corner, in any shop window, among any face in the crowd, Star may one day find the eyes of a woman without pupils, and the barrel of an alien weapon. And no matter how he plans, how he assure himself of his safety, Dr. Voodoo knows that man with intuition to match his own may very well be tracking his every move.

All of Khazan is being watched. The world is being watched on high, by angels in our midst. Not glorious beautiful angels of light, liberty, and justice, but angels of the dark. Angels at our level, heroes from our lives, from our city streets, watching, waiting, and preparing to save us from the worst in ourselves. They are Angels of Mercy….

I'm sad to see this end. It was a very entertaining read overall. Maybe not too much in the way of character development, but it accomplished the role of action-packed fight-fest quite well. I liked that it wasn't a clear win for the good guys, where the Angels show up, solve the riots, purify the water, and save the day. It was a very bittersweet victory that wasn't cliche.

I was a big fan of the last two paragraphs at the end there in particular; made the whole thing end on a good note for me.

Enjoyed this. Inspired me to do something similar in future (a big crossover thing, not Sayang related, unfortunately, heh) because you've shown they can be fun and they work. So yeah, great stuff mate.

Interests:Chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool and all shooting some b-ball outside of the school.

Posted 02 June 2011 - 12:52 AM

Great stuff as always Deo. Hey, I hope you dont mind, but I'm gonna use a part of your story in my current story arc. Just look it up under the What Lies Beneath storyline and you can find it begining in Chapter 18.